Happy New Year, we will hear that so many times this first part of January. I wish I could creatively come up with a response that embodies the emotions that encapsulate the calendar turning to another year. 2022...we last held Madi in 2018; pain feels the gap, the endless space between life with Madi here and life carrying her in our hearts. The space between 2018 and 2022 is wider than any other two points on the timeline of my life. The New Year always held possibility, hope, promises of a better life. I sometimes feel foolish thinking how I held onto the hope of complete healing for my girl. I look back at Facebook post and half scoff and half mourn how I believed that our miracle would last. I know if I had to do it all over again, I would hope with faith all over again. How else do you survive your child being terminally ill, unless you fight for hope and promises above all else?
I pick up the remnants of Adi and Brenton spending the week with us. Each toy and forgotten sock add to the weight in my chest.
Tonight, the year will change, and I hope for myself and everyone else missing someone that we will have a year of gentleness, feel support and support others. We will find gratitude despite the hard days. That our eyes and hearts will be open to the beauty around us. Most of all I hope that I will feel in every fiber of my being that I am taking Madi forward into 2022 and not leaving her behind, I can live in the sunshine of her life and not in the shadow of her death.
Happy New Year Madi, you always loved a good party!